


a rough and tumble start

by i_am_trash_15



Series: Getting better (or at least trying) [1]
Category: SMPLive, mcyt
Genre: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jschlatt-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Minecraft but Every Five Minutes the Water Level Rises, Schlatt Angst, Schlatt can't swim, Schlatt is aquaphobic, Schlatt was not having a good time, Schlatt-centric, author likes puns, it is really quick though, schlatt needs a hug, semi-graphic descriptions of a car crash, thoughts of death but lowkey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_trash_15/pseuds/i_am_trash_15
Summary: When Schlatt was a kid, things were okay. Then he had to grow up. He had to learn the hard way that people were not meant to be trusted.this is a prologue
Relationships: just friendships :)
Series: Getting better (or at least trying) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076531
Comments: 4
Kudos: 102





	a rough and tumble start

For the longest time, Schlatt had been surrounded by people. Despite this, he always felt so, so alone. It wasn’t even that he couldn’t describe why he felt alone, he could. None of the people that surrounded him ever really cared. Schlatt could think of three people in his life that really cared, but two of them were long dead and the other, long gone.

His mother had been such a lovely person, from what he could remember. She used to grab him and pull him tight in the biggest bear hug, and he would giggle and try and fight back, and she would tickle his sides until he couldn’t breathe. 

His uncle, his father’s brother, was so much fun. Schlatt’s favorite relative, by far. The man was a ram hybrid, just like Schlatt is now, and he would let him hang off of his long and sturdy horns like a jungle gym. He gave Schlatt a sweater once, and it was far too big on the boy, but he loved it anyway. It was a wonderful light blue color, just a shade or two darker than the kind of light blue that you would look up in the sky on a perfectly clear day and see.

But his mother died when Schlatt was young, and his uncle even younger. When his uncle died, Schlatt somehow inherited his uncle’s horns. They started growing in about a month after, and they hurt like hell. Some of the other kids would call him a freak because of his new rammish traits, but his mother was always there to dry his tears and tickle his sides and tell him it would be okay. But not his father. After the death of his brother, Schlatt’s father grew sullen and angry, but after the death of his wife was when it all hit the fan.

When Schlatt was six, he was driving down the road in the backseat of his mother’s car. They had gone to get ice cream, Schlatt remembers fondly. He can’t remember the next bit very clearly, but he remembers a loud horn and a pair of lights, and then suddenly they were not on the road. A tree branch was poking through the windshield.

Someone came to the car. There were sirens. They pulled Schlatt out of the car and wrapped him in a blanket and told him it would all be okay. He believed them only until they pulled his mother’s body out of the car and covered her in a white sheet. Things would no longer be okay.

His father offered no warmth to him when informed of the news. He withdrew from Schlatt almost entirely, only speaking to him at mealtimes. He would drink, and smoke, and occasionally bring women to the house. Schlatt would cover his ears.

Sometimes, he would go over and see his best friend, Wilbur, the only one who cared, now. They would play, and those times when he saw Wilbur would be the only times that he would laugh. Wilbur didn’t know what exactly was going on in Schlatt’s world, but even if he did, he was too young to do anything about it. Even if Wilbur had a good three years on Schlatt, he was still just a kid. He didn’t know what to do when Schlatt came over to play sporting a new mystery bruise. Even if he did know what to do, where would Schlatt have gone? He had no family.

When Schlatt was ten, his father died. He overdosed, was what he told Wilbur. It was not entirely a lie, but his father had some underlying medical conditions that ran in the family, and Schlatt didn’t want Wilbur to know. So he told him and his parents that his father died of an overdose.

On the day that Schlatt’s old man passed away, Wilbur’s father received a phone call. It was from the Schlatt residence.

“Hello, Mr. Schlatt, what can I do for you. Does your boy want to come and play with Wilbur?”

And Schlatt had put on his best ‘sad’ voice, and replied, “Hello, Mr. Soot. My -sniff- my dad died. I don’t know what to do.” He added a few sniffles and sobs in there, to make it seem real, and Wilbur’s dad instantly told him to wait right there, he would come and get him. When he got to the Soot residence, Wilbur’s parents gave him some food, told him he could sleep in Wilbur’s room, gave him a sad smile, and sent him off to bed.

He lay awake that night, realizing everything that was going on. He sat up.

“Wilbur? Are you awake?” he whispered into the dark room.

“Sure, buddy, what’s up?”

“Am I a bad person?”

“What?” Schlatt could hear Wilbur sit up at that. “Why do you think that?”

“I’m not sad that my dad is dead. I’m more glad than anything. Does that make me a bad person?” Wilbur was silent for a second. He was thirteen now, and knew a little bit more about the world than when he was nine. He knew what Schlatt’s dad did to him, knew that what made Schlatt cry would not have been his dad’s death, of all things.

“No, I don’t think you are. I think you have good reason to be angry with your dad.”

“Okay. Thanks, Wil.”

Schlatt didn’t get much sleep that night. What was he supposed to do now? Wilbur’s parents wouldn’t want to take care of him forever, surely.

At his father’s funeral, the will was read, and Schlatt’s fate was decided. In the event that no living relative could take him, Schlatt was to go to this fancy place that teaches science. Or at least, when the people from there came to pick him up, that was what they told Wilbur’s parents. One look at them and Schlatt didn’t trust them in the slightest. They wore lab coats, and had Wilbur’s parents sign some papers while Schlatt gathered the things he brought with him.

“Wil, I don’t want to go with them…”

“It’s for the best, pal, I’m sure. It’ll be alright.”

“I don’t trust them.”

“You don’t trust anyone well.”

“I’m a hybrid, there aren’t many people to trust.” In the end, despite his mistrust, he went with the strangers in the lab coat. They brought him to a large, concrete building in the middle of absolutely nowhere, and led him to his new room, which was white and sterile, and smelled of salt. He looked around, and looked back up at the people in lab coats. He did not like this at all.

As it turned out, he had reason to not trust them. They were a hybrid testing facility, and they had not gotten a ram hybrid yet. Every week, they would run tests on him, tug on his horns, pull at his ears, poke at his hooves. They would test his pain tolerance, giving him shocks, or other things that they knew caused pain. His tolerance to pain grew far higher than a child’s pain tolerance should ever have been. They would test how long he could go without nutrients or sleep, which was apparently interesting to them enough for them to keep doing it.

Sometimes the tests would even go so far as to test physical abilities, such as climbing or swimming. He was great at climbing, he found. The hooves really helped in that department. 

As far as swimming, though, he thought he had it handled. His mom tried to teach him a while ago, and he had been okay-ish at it. He did rely a lot on his feet, though, and it had been a good long while since he’d gone swimming. 

As it turned out, swimming was a lot harder with hooves than Schlatt initially thought. In fact, it was almost impossible. He had to use his arms more, and it tired him out shockingly fast. The people in the lab coats did not do anything, they just took notes on their clipboards. The room that they put him in was slowly filling up with water. Schlatt couldn’t get to the surface now, his arms were too tired. He sank to the bottom, the numbing feeling of being weightless almost nauseating to him. The air in his lungs finally escaped, and water took its place. That was when the panic set in. When the water filled his lungs and didn’t leave, and suddenly he was choking on the stuff, trying to breathe, and then it was dark.

Apparently they got the water out, because Schlatt woke up in his room, cold, wet, and alone, but breathing.

The one good thing about the people at the lab was that they made sure he knew how to do things. Treat wounds, make lava into something less deadly, etc. They didn’t teach him how to swim, though.

One day, a few years later (Or at least Schlatt thought it was a few years. They didn’t do anything to acknowledge the passing of years. There wasn’t even a window in his room. Just the painful white light that they loved to turn on when he was trying to sleep.), they led him outside, to a closed off area. He knew what was closing it off. A barrier. There was no way out of here unless he had a command block to destroy the barrier. Finally a chance at escape, and of course there was a barrier.

At first, Schlatt had no idea what was going on. Then the people in the white lab coats announced that the challenge was starting, and TNT began raining from the sky. He dodged the first blast, but the second threw him off guard a little bit. Were they trying to kill him?!

They watched him run around, avoiding the TNT for about an hour, before announcing that the challenge was over and they were moving on. Another challenge? He was so tired, why another one?

The people in the lab coats did not care what he thought about the challenges, because they threw him into a new area, telling he had twenty minutes to prepare something before the area around him would begin filling with lava. 

He was sure now. They were done with him, and trying to kill him in the most interesting way possible. He didn’t know how old he was, but he was pretty sure he was too young to die. Too young for all of this, frankly. Actually, no. Schlatt changed his mind. Death would be a mercy at this point. But maybe the people will let him go after this, if they really are done with him. He would play along for now.

He got some wood for the new challenge, and then an idea popped into his mind. He dug down, searching for iron. He finally found some, but it was not quite enough. He kept digging, finally he found some more. He hurried to the surface, reaching the grass just as the lava rose to the level he was at a few seconds before. That was close. He smelted the iron, crafting it into buckets. He scooped up some of the rather plentiful lava, and found some water, scooping that up, too. If he just towered up, then he would eventually run out of materials. With this plan, though, he would far outlast whatever plan the scientists had. He smirked. Checkmate.

He eventually infuriated the scientists enough to the point where they had the lava risen to just two blocks below where he was. He pulled out his crafting bench again, crafting up something to take up the space that the lava would have gone into. He placed ladders around him, and then looked up at the scientists in gloating challenge. They should not have taught him how to survive lava if they wanted to kill him with it.

He beat them at their own game, and everyone knew it. They brought him out of the closed off area, deciding something amongst themselves before turning back to him with passive faces.

“One more test for you, little ram,” one of the people in the lab coats smiled with no friendliness in his smile. And with that, they were transporting him to the third, and apparently final challenge. By the looks in the scientist’s eyes, they were really hoping he didn’t come back from this one.

They dropped him off by the bank of a small lake, and he took in his surroundings. Tall mountains in almost every direction, framing him in even if there wasn’t a barrier. He decided to get away from the lake, not trusting his ability to get out if he fell in. Totally not because the very sight of the lake filled him with some vague feeling of dread. The people in the lab coats did not tell him what the challenge was. This did not help.

Schlatt climbed up the short but steep cliffs, finding a way up easily. When he was almost to the top, a sharp sound like an alarm sounded, startling him enough to lose his grip on the cliff. He fell, shouting out a loud curse word as he landed hard in a layer of water where the sandy lake bank had been not minutes before. He panicked, splashing around in the water before realizing how shallow it was, and feeling like a fool for panicking.

He got up, wet and cold and rather pissed that that had even happened, but he trudged out of the water and looked back up the cliff. It would be so much harder while wet. He groaned aloud, kicking the stone of the cliff side and cursing in pain after doing so.

“Schlatt? Is that you?” A voice said, rather suddenly. He whipped around, hoof pain forgotten. There, clad in his usual yellow sweater, hairstyle unchanged since age thirteen, was his old friend Wilbur.

“Wilbur? What the hell are you doing here? You look… older.”

“So do you! How old are you now?”

“Gonna be real with you for a second, I have no idea,” Schlatt said with a chuckle.

“Hmm. Oh well, we can discuss that later. The water level seems to be rising. I was wandering around, exploring, and then this barrier came up and I couldn’t get out!”

“Huh. That’s weird, one would think that they’d be more careful,” he muttered to himself. Why would they trap an innocent person in here with the water? Wilbur had nothing to do with this. Schlatt looked up at his old friend. Wilbur was looking at him with a strange expression.

“What?”

“Do you realize you think aloud or is that just around me?” Wilbur asked. Shit.

“S- sorry.” Schlatt tried to pass it off as a chuckle. “Yeah, we should go up. Would hate to get wet this early on, huh?” Wilbur laughed with Schlatt, who had very obviously already fallen in the water.

They made their way up the cliff, this time more safely, since he had Wilbur to take into account. They towered up, until they got to a nice flat area between two more cliffs that seemed too daunting right that second to even try to climb.

“We should build a little shelter,” Wilbur suggested. Schlatt nodded, and began collecting wood. They got some stone, and made a little shack. Wilbur expanded it a little bit, and they settled in.

“So why don’t you know how old you are?” Wilbur turned towards Schlatt, eyebrow raised.

“I guess I just didn’t keep track of the years.”

“Hmm.” He sounded unconvinced. “Well I’m seventeen now, and you’re three years younger, so, fourteen. You’re fourteen.”

“Damn…” the folks in the lab wanted to kill a fourteen year old? Guess he knew too much or something. His face twisted into a sour expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think you were meant to be here. In this area.”

“And you are?”

“I’m the reason the barrier is here. They- the people, I mean- are running an experiment. Apparently with water rising.” Schlatt hid his hands in his pocket. The people in the lab coats really knew how to scare him. They knew he couldn’t swim. They just wanted to see how long it would take. The looming threat of the water had been in the back of Schlatt’s mind since he learned what was going on, but he had managed to hide the shaking in his hands from Wilbur for this long. He wondered how long he could keep it up for.

“What do you mean ‘experiment’? Why are you the reason the barrier is up? Are you like, their lab rat?”

“No, I’m not the lab rat!” Schlatt protested. “I’m the lab ram.” How dare Wilbur call him a rat. Rats don’t have horns or cloven hooves. They have tails, sure, but long and hairless tails, not short and kind of fluffy (when dry) like his. And his ears weren’t that big...

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. Lab ram. Why are you the test subject?”

“Beats me. Guess they just don’t like me or something. This is the third one, man. I’ve had a long-ass day and it’s not even three o’clock yet.”

“Oh shit. What happened?”

“There was like, TNT raining from the sky. Then there was one like this, but it was lava instead of water.”

“That makes this one sound like the tame one. At least we can just swim up to the surface.”

“Right.” Schlatt bit back a tense chuckle.

They watched the water rise, picking up in pace at every significant rise. Schlatt felt himself getting colder and colder, his hands shaking and his hoof tapping anxiously against the floor. If Wilbur noticed, he said nothing.

Rather suddenly, Wilbur announced that he was going to go and get some resources, try and get a bit higher. Schlatt nodded numbly.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

And then Schlatt was alone again.

This was perhaps worse than just the watery threat. The fact that he was now alone, facing the watery threat. The alarm sounded again, and suddenly the house was under water. Schlatt felt the pressure in the room get tighter, every breath more strained. He forced himself to relax. At least he was dry. At least he wasn’t outside.

Oh god, Wilbur was, though. Wilbur was outside, he could be dead, he could have drowned… Schlatt curled in on himself, sinking to the ground. No. Wilbur was fine. Wilbur had never had a problem with swimming. Schlatt was being irrational.

But what if… he tried to stop himself thinking.

It was a long while before Wilbur came back down. At that point, Schlatt had made himself into a ball, passively waiting for the end.

“Schlatt? Where are you?” Wilbur gasped for air, coming through the door. Schlatt, upon hearing the voice, shot up like he hadn’t just given up, and dusted himself off.

“Wilbur! You’re back! Did you find anything?”

“I did. I built a house, way up high! It’s dry there! All we have to do is swim up, and-”

“I can’t,” Schlatt whispered.

“What do you mean? Of course you can, it’s warm and dry up there, there’s food up there.”

“I mean I can’t, Wilbur!” Something in his friend’s face darkened. 

“Fine. Have it your way.” Wilbur turned and stepped back out into the water, swimming up. Schlatt panicked, suddenly not having enough room to breathe. He got out his pickaxe and mined down a few blocks, making a little hallway of stone. He placed a torch at his feet. At least he didn’t have to watch the water down here.

And then the torch went out, and there was water soaking into his black pants. He screamed and mined up, breaking through the floorboards of Wilbur’s side of the house.

What he saw terrified him. Wilbur was breaking the ceiling of the house, letting the water in. He had on a cold, passive face, with something akin to frustration in his eyes. Schlatt hid in the air bubble the door made.

“Wilbur! What the hell are you doing?”

“If you won’t come up with me, Schlatt, maybe you’ll come up for this.”

“Wilbur, I can’t fucking swim! I literally cannot come up!” Schlatt was visibly shaking now, he knew he was. The frustration in Wilbur’s eyes died down, and he simply gaped at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me that? We are surrounded by water and you didn’t think to tell me you couldn’t fucking swim?”

“I’m sorry. Please, just stop,” Schlatt pleaded. Wilbur swam up, leaving him again, this time with a flooded house and nowhere to go. Well, the scientists apparently wanted to kill him. Looks like they succeeded.

Schlatt sat in the doorway, shivering and shaking. Wilbur left again. Wilbur was angry with him. His eyes grew blurry. Nothing was okay. The tears fell, and got lost with the ocean around him.

He should at least try and make his way up to the surface. He would eventually die from lack of oxygen anyway, might as well either try and make it up or die faster.

He forced himself to his shaky legs, looking out at the blue expanse with nausea in his chest, before stepping out into the water, which welcomed him with open arms. It was cold. He pushed off of the ground and started fighting toward the surface as best he could, but his arms were getting tired, he was running out of air, and the blue wasn’t getting any lighter.

He began to feel lightheaded, his lungs began to burn. His vision, already dark, began to grow dark. The water began getting lighter. He was so close, so close, so tired. His arms were not making any progress now, they were just keeping him in place. He let go of the air he was keeping in his lungs. He made his peace with death. Fuck you world, thanks for nothing.

His lungs filled with water and his vision went black.

Something tugged on the back of his shirt, but he was too far gone to care.

Wilbur swam back up to his little house in the higher cliffs, already feeling bad that he left again. Schlatt looked so scared, so scared. And Wilbur had broken the roof anyway. Schlatt couldn’t swim, he was crying. And still Wilbur left. He needed to go back down and get him. He had to. He would find something floaty and bring it down with him. Schlatt could use that to get up.

He was getting his things ready when he heard the alarm that signaled the water rising again. He looked out to see how far up it went this time, and saw a faint movement in the water. A zombie? A creeper? Or better yet, some food? Probably not. It looked human-shaped, ish.

Then the movement stopped and bubbles erupted on the surface of the water. Dead things don’t need air, Wilbur realized. Schlatt was trying to swim up.

Without a second thought, he jumped in the water, desperately swimming over to where he saw the bubbles. He dove, swimming down, down, feeling around until he felt something that wasn’t normally in water. Fabric. He pulled, and looped an arm around his friend’s body, swimming up. He was so limp in his grasp.

They broke the surface of the water, and Schlatt’s head lolled forward. Wilbur swam over to land, dragging Schlatt behind him. He was lighter than Wilbur thought he’d be.

Not the point. Schlatt wasn’t breathing. Wilbur checked for a pulse, anything.

There, very faint, very weak, was a pulse. Wilbur pumped on Schlatt’s chest, trying to get him to breathe again.

“Please, please.” He looked so pale. Even the boy’s horns were paler than they normally are. In fact, they had been lighter through this entire time with Schlatt than he ever remembered them being.

Schlatt sputtered and choked on water, coughing it up in scarily large quantities. Wilbur rolled him over so that it would be easier to get it up. When it seemed like Schlatt was actually breathing in air okay again, Wilbur pulled him into a hug.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Wilbur?” Schlatt’s voice was so faint, he barely heard it. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Wilbur clung to the boy’s blue sweater, not caring if his face was uncomfortable against the horns on Schlatt’s head.

“I thought you left…”

“I was coming back. I was looking for something that could float.”

“Oh.” Wilbur’s heart clenched with guilt. Schlatt thought that Wilbur had abandoned him. Technically, Wilbur kind of had, but he had resolved to come back.

Wilbur felt Schlatt’s hands come up to grasp at his sweater. His shoulders shook, barely, and his face was buried in the yellow fabric.

Wilbur didn’t say anything about it. He knew that Schlatt wouldn’t want him to acknowledge it.

Schlatt was jolted away from the black expanse, that floating feeling, only to start hacking up water at the first hint of air. He coughed up the water, and gasped in air, taking big gulps of the stuff until his body was satisfied that he wouldn’t die if he stopped. He felt really dizzy.

Something pulled his upper body into a crushing hold. All he could see was yellow.

Oh.

“Wilbur?” He came back. He came back. That phrase repeated like a mantra in his head. Wilbur came back for him. Wilbur didn’t let him drown.

Wilbur explained that he had just gone to get Schlatt something to help him get up, but it didn’t matter to Schlatt. Wilbur had come back for him. He gripped his friend’s yellow sweater and buried his face in, the mental dam holding back his feelings finally crashing down, and they came on around him in full force. His body shook with the first silent sob, but he kept the others under control.

Wilbur thankfully said nothing about it.

The alarm sounded again, and the water started rising again. Schlatt started panicking again, but Wilbur patted his head.

“I have a safe place. Can you stand?” They got up, Wilbur taking him up a shoddily made staircase to a house with a bit more room than the one Schlatt made.

Schlatt was still dizzy, and incredibly out of it, so he sat down in the corner and watched Wilbur do something with the furnaces.

“Why don’t you sit over here, it’s warmer,” the boy in yellow suggested, gesturing to the furnaces. Schlatt nodded and made an effort getting up, but eventually after stumbling on his feet a bit, Wilbur just came over and pulled him to his feet.

“Sorry, ‘m still kinda out of it…”

“It’s okay. Jeez, man, you’re light.”

“Sorry.” They both sat down by the fire.

“So what happened, after you left?” Wilbur asked. Schlatt shook his head. He did not want to talk about it. “Why not.”

“Trust me on this one. Not a fun story.”

“You mentioned this was an experiment. You almost died. Was that an experiment too?”

“It’s more for them. They wanna see what kills me the best. Fuckers know I can’t swim. They didn’t expect you to be a factor. Congrats, you’re a wildcard.” Schlatt gave half-assed jazz hands, as if he wasn’t talking about people trying to kill him. Wilbur looked to be in shock.

“You mean…”

“They’re done with me, Wil. This is the final test. Either I drown or suffocate or whatever in here, or they just shoot me when I get out, or I escape. You’re gonna have to run too, you know. They’re pretty secretive.”

“Are these the same people that took you after your dad died?” Wilbur asked. His face was pale.

“You look like you don’t want the answer to that, Wilbur.”

“Is that yes?”

“Yeah.” Wilbur let out a shaky breath.

“You mean that we just… handed you to a bunch of madmen? Oh god, and you even didn’t trust them! You didn’t wanna go with them!”

“It’ll be okay, Wilbur.”

“They are trying to kill you, Schlatt.”

“Pssh, that’s nothing new. This is just the first time they were serious about it. Besides, you’re here, you can help me escape.” A wide grin split Schlatt’s face, and for the first time in a long time, things were looking up. Wilbur just looked absolutely bewildered. Schlatt inwardly chuckled. Bewilbured. 

And then the alarm sounded again, and he was reminded that he wasn’t free yet. Water began to seep through the cracks in the windows, and the fire was suddenly not enough to ward off the cold inside Schlatt that seemed to freeze his very being.

“Schlatt. We could go up further. While there is still time.” Wilbur was shaking his shoulder. He nodded numbly, staring out at the water coming in through the windows and under the door. He allowed himself to be pulled to the door. Wilbur opened it and they stood in the gap where water did not pass. He craned his neck up.

“It’s not that far. I don’t know where any land is, though. I’m gonna swim up and try and see some, then I promise I will be right back.” He started to go out, but Schlatt reached out and pulled on his yellow sleeve. “What?”

“Don’t leave me… please.”

“I was gonna come back… fine. Don’t let go of me, though.” No problem there. They submerged themselves and fought their way up to the top, Wilbur looking around for land while Schlatt tried to keep his face above water. The Brit located the nearest land, and pulled them over to it. He got out, then pulled Schlatt out by the arms, and thankfully not the horns. Not that they would pop off or anything, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant when people pulled in them. He would know. People have tried.

They made a boat this time, once on land. They could sail to land higher up, instead of just trying to swim over there. This worked out a lot better.

Eventually they got to the build height. Schlatt looked out past the border. They were on the opposite side of the map as the people in the white coats.

“We almost made it,” Wilbur patted him on the back.

“Yeah. If only we could get rid of this damn border.” Wilbur got out of the boat, building a pillar for himself to stand on while Schlatt sat in the boat. They looked over the barrier, and saw the great expanse of land untouched by the water. Wilbur put a hand against the barrier, then tried again over the barrier. They couldn’t see it, but it was definitely still there, and it was not budging any time soon. Schlatt groaned. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He brushed back his unruly hair. If he got out of this alive, he was cutting it off. 

“Schlatt… get out of the boat.” Wilbur’s voice cut into his thoughts rather suddenly. Schlatt looked up at him, confused.

“Why? There isn’t anywhere to stand on your tower.”

“I’ll add a block, just get out of the boat, before-” there was a loud rumbling. The barrier disappeared. There was a second where nothing happened, and then gravity took its hold on the water. Schlatt reached for Wilbur as the water took his boat with it.

The water crashed down, taking everything in its path with it. It brought him so far away from where Wilbur was. Bushes, sticks, trees, everything was being swept along with the path of the destructive water. Schlatt could do nothing but cling to the sides of his battered boat. Branches whipped by him, occasionally striking his arms, legs, face. It stung, but he could not afford to worry about that then. He peeked open his eyes. He hadn't even realized he’d screwed them shut until he opened them. Ahead of him, a sharp rock divided the water. His eyes widened almost comically, and he let out a scream. He tried to divert his path by putting his arm in the water to try and turn, but something sharp caught it and he pulled it out immediately, hissing in pain. He watched in almost slow motion horror as he hit the rock full force, shattering his boat. He went flying, and when he hit the ground, everything went black.

When Schlatt came to, there were people around him. Some of them were just looking at him, some of them were poking him, and Schlatt could feel a pair of hands gripping his horns. They gave a sharp tug, and he gave a cry of pain, lashing out, fighting against whatever was trying to pull his horns off. His head hurt. It always did when people tried to do that. The hands were back on him, pinning him down, preventing him from flailing about any longer. Schlatt went back under.

In the long run, reacting that way might have been a bad decision. It wasn’t like he was awoken from a delirious state by something that caused him pain. It wasn’t like he knew what was going on, he thought that he was in real danger. He acted in self defense. The new people evidently in charge of his life did not think this was the case. They threw him in a children’s home that worked to reform unruly children.

Because that was what he was.

An unruly child.

Whatever the case, this place was horrible. It was so strict, it was like a prison. It even looked like a damn prison. There was a lights-out time (though most of the days he couldn’t sleep), there was solitary confinement if you were involved in a fight (it didn’t matter if you started it or not. All participants of the fight went into solitary. He would know. Older kids started fights with him all the time. Even if he didn’t even fight back, he would still get sent to solitary.), and the food there was just terrible. It held barely any nutrients, and if you weren’t good, they would make you miss meals. And Schlatt was just prone to fights, wasn’t he? He was small, but he looked intimidating if you took the horns into account.

The ‘caretakers’ tried to pull his horns off many times, saying how they “weren’t natural”, and that he was “marked by satan”. Evidently because of this alleged devil mark that he supposedly had, this made him a bad kid.

Eventually he began to actually believe what they were saying. He knew it was terrible, but if enough people tell you the same thing enough times, that he didn’t deserve anything, then it must be true. He had to deal with the cards he was dealt, as much as he hated those cards. As much as he wanted to rip up those cards. Curse his bleeding heart. Curse these bleeding scars. No one cared enough to say anything, if they even noticed he was doing it. Never his wrists, that was too visible. Sides, legs, those were fair game for his knife to wander to. It felt… good, to feel something. Even if it was pain, he was used to pain. Pain was a familiar face to him, in a world of strangers and blacked-out faces.

As he got older, he found out that the caretakers didn’t give two shits about him, just as long as he didn’t do it in front of him. Once he turned sixteen, he started drinking. It felt great, knowing that there was no one who could mess him up as much as he could. It felt good knowing that whatever the world tried to do to him, he could do so much worse to himself. The sick power was often all that kept him going.

He was at the children’s home until he was eighteen. Shortly before his eighteenth birthday, he began packing up his things. He was able to do some studies while there, learned a lot about computers. He also learned that people could age out of the system at age eighteen. So a week before his birthday, he was looking into places that accepted new people, allowed hybrids. He found a few, but one caught his eye. SMP Live.

As soon as he was out, he took his few things and left, flipping the building the bird as he left. He brought up his universal communicator, and asked the leader of the server for entering permissions. He got a response, and a ‘join server’ option appeared in the menu for SMP Live. Schlatt grinned. Things might be finally looking up.


End file.
